(Fourth Sunday of Lent (C): This homily was given on March 10, 2013 at
St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani. Read Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32.)
They say that experience is the
best teacher.
Well that’s certainly the way it
was for the prodigal son. This boy
learned a lot—about himself, about his family, and about life in general—through
the experiences that he had between the time he left home with his inheritance
and the time he returned home without it.
He
learned, first of all, that no sins are unforgivable! And that was a crucial lesson for him to
learn, because I don’t think he believed his sins could be forgiven! Now that’s somewhat understandable, because
in leaving as he did, he knew that he had decisively cut himself off from his
father and from his family. Notice that
the passage says that this boy took “all
his belongings.” He took them all
because he never intended to go back!
And that’s why his dad said he was “dead”. He wasn’t physically dead; he was spiritually dead!
In theological terms, he had
committed a mortal sin. (Actually, from
the way the story is told, it seems that he had committed a number of mortal
sins!) Remember what a mortal sin is: it’s
one that cuts us off from God the Father and from the sanctifying grace that
comes to us through our spiritual family, the Church. Or, as the Catechism puts it: “Mortal sin destroys charity in the heart of man by a grave violation
of God’s law; it turns man away from God, who is his ultimate end and his
beatitude, by preferring an inferior good to him.” (CCC, 1855)
The prodigal son didn’t think he
could be forgiven for his many mortal sins; he just hoped that he could be
“tolerated” by his father for what he had done.
But he soon learned that his father’s mercy was greater than all the
evils he had committed.
Hopefully we learn that very same
lesson every time we go to Confession.
On that note, when was the last time you went? Thankfully, there’s still time to go during
this season of Lent.
It’s important to mention
Confession in this context because another
thing the prodigal son learned by experience was that reconciliation with his
dad wasn’t automatic. It wasn’t
something that was “just going to happen”. After breaking his relationship with his
father, he realized that he needed to do
something to repair the damage: specifically, he needed to go to his dad and verbally
acknowledge his guilt—which he did: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and
against you.”
Well that’s precisely what we do
in Confession, is it not? We go to our
heavenly Father, through the priest, and verbally acknowledge the evil we have
done, as well as the good we have failed to do (in other words, our sins of commission and our sins of omission).
In the experience of going to his
dad and verbalizing his guilt, the prodigal son learned yet another lesson: He learned that his father was looking for a
reason not to give him what he
deserved! This boy knew he
deserved punishment—severe punishment; he knew that he deserved to be
permanently excluded from the family (“Father, I have sinned against heaven and
against you. I no longer deserve to be
called your son.”)
The father, thankfully, ignored
that last remark and welcomed his wayward son home.
By showing sincere repentance and
acknowledging his sin, the prodigal son gave his dad a reason—a great reason—not to give him what he deserved.
Which, as we heard a few moments
ago, greatly upset his older brother! I
find it very interesting, the father in this story (who obviously represents
God the Father) looks for a reason not
to give his prodigal son what he deserves, whereas it’s pretty clear that the
older boy wants to see his prodigal brother get exactly what he deserves (and perhaps a little extra as well!).
That fact says a lot about the
difference between God and us. I think
most people, in similar circumstances, would feel like that older son felt.
In addition to all the lessons he
learned about repentance, mercy and forgiveness, the prodigal son also learned
a few other things. For example, he
learned, through his experience, that
sometimes suffering can be a blessing in disguise! Think about it: if he had not spent all that time with Porky Pig
and his friends in that filthy pig sty, he probably would never have
re-established his relationship with his dad!
In all likelihood, the two would have remained disconnected for the rest
of their lives. But his suffering woke
him up, and motivated him to go back to his father in a spirit of sincere
repentance. And that was a great
blessing.
I encourage you to try to think
of that the next time you experience a terrible suffering in your life: it can be the source of some very special
graces.
THE
PRODIGAL SON also learned to be grateful. He learned to be grateful for the many
blessings he had enjoyed in his father’s house—blessings that he had obviously
taken for granted earlier in his life.
In fact, that’s one of the reasons he left his dad in the first place: he
didn’t realize he had it so good!
SO OBVIOUSLY HE ALSO LEARNED THE
IMPORTANCE OF FAMILY; HE LEARNED THAT PEOPLE ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN THINGS; HE
LEARNED THAT HE COULD NOW CHANGE HIS
LIFE AND BECOME A HOLY AND MERCIFUL PERSON (he learned that from the great example
of his dad); AND HE LEARNED ABOUT THE DESTRUCTIVE POWER OF PRIDE AND ANGER (he
received that lesson, unfortunately, from the very bad example of his older
brother).
Of course, it’s one thing to
learn all this from your past experience; it’s quite another thing to apply it
in the present moment for the sake of your future! I pray today that the prodigal son did both:
that he learned these lessons by his experience of sin and repentance, and that
he then allowed these lessons to have a positive impact on him for the rest of
his life.
If he did, then he certainly
became a saint—and in that he becomes a great example for all of us to try to follow.
